


Footnotes

by LadyLorena



Series: Marginalia [2]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 15:11:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5590972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLorena/pseuds/LadyLorena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to In the Margins. Loki has been studying with Iris for five centuries when he gets bored and makes a very big mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Iris and Loki spent five hundred years studying monastically in his chambers before he began to get bored. He flitted from text to text, unable to concentrate on any one thing for more than a day, and snapped at her when she suggested reviewing notes, revising their drafts, or spending more time with a particularly tricky manuscript.

"Iris, I wish to go walking. I need to leave this place before I go mad. Shall we switch bodies so I can wander the city?"

"Why do we not simply ask if we might go walking together? Thor has let us wander the grounds on occasion, perhaps next the city will be permitted."

"No, it will never happen. He will deny my plea."

"You give up before you have even started."

"I am a realist."

"You are already defeated."

"Iris, I am a prisoner in my own home. How much more defeated could I be?"

"A prisoner in the dungeon in your own home, I think, would be more defeated. And that you would be if you were caught sneaking out."

"He did not stop me before, and I can hide myself from Heimdall's gaze."

"It was considered it a test before. Come now, Loki. Be patient and allow me to ask for a walk."

He did not answer, tossing his book aside and leaving disgruntled. Iris went to the door and asked the guards to inquire after an audience with the king.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki's restlessness seemed to quiet for a few days, but Iris was not reassured. She watched, she waited, and she ticked off the days until her audience with the king.

On the morning of her appointment, she woke readied herself for the day. There was a knock on the door as their breakfast was delivered. She called to Loki. No answer. She called again. She looked into his bedroom and found the sheets neatly tucked, the quilt folded at the end. She cursed and panicked, then stepped out into the hall. Guards surrounded her.

"I have an audience with the king! Release me!"

"Drop the illusion, sorcerer!"

"I am Iris!"

"Iris went to visit her sister this morning. No more lies!"

"He was the lie, not I!"

"Return to your chambers. The king will decide."

She threw up her hands, "Then so be it. I will wait for him." She returned to the room and began to pack.

When Thor arrived, she bowed deep, "Your Highness. Please believe me. I am Iris."

Thor nodded, "I have checked with Heimdall. You speak the truth. He has hidden himself from Heimdall's eyes, but you are most definitely yourself." He noticed her trunk open, her papers stacked neatly on top of her clothes, "You will leave this place."

"If he has broken my trust, then yes, I must."

Thor nodded, "Of course. Do you wish or assistance?"

"No. But I will wait until he returns. I have much to say."

"Understood." He left.

A few hours later, Loki returned, dropping his disguise as he entered the room. He hoped she would not notice who he had been. And then he saw where she was sitting- in the centre of the room in a chair from the desk facing the windows. Her trunk was behind the chair, strapped closed. She sat stone still, waiting.

"Good afternoon, Iris."

"Where have you been?"

"I was granted a walk in the gardens."

"You lie."

"I do not."

She rose and faced him, her arms crossed over her chest, "No, you do. When I went for my audience with Thor to discuss taking a walk together in the city, I was stopped by the guards and told I had already left to visit my sister."

"Surely they misspoke."

"No. They did not. Our king confirmed it. Heimdall has seen me and knew you were not where you ought be."

"Iris..."

"You stole my body."

"Come now, Iris, I simply went for a walk."

"No, you used my face, you stole my body. And that is unforgivable."

He was smiling, trying to act as though she was overreacting, "Please- be calm about this."

"Loki, I could possibly be calm if my life had been different than it has, but I have had my body stolen by different means before and I consider any use of it by anyone other than myself to be violence against me. You cannot undo this. Now get out of my way. I am leaving." She lifted her trunk on one edge and rolled it toward him.

"But we have a book to write! Five centuries of scholarship!"

"I suppose you ought to have thought of that earlier. I had an appointment with the king! One day, that is all the more you had to wait, before I could have told you if we had our walk or not! Goodbye."

He stood in front of the door, "No. You cannot."

"I will."

Footsteps in the hallway drew his attention, "What is that?"

"Likely a garrison."

"You cannot let them take me- it will be back to the dungeons!"

"At the moment, I do not particularly care. Now move out of my way." He dodged behind her as Thor burst through the door, soldiers pouring in after him.

"Again, goodbye Loki. You should have thought of all this before risking everything for your own selfish whims." The guards let her by and Loki was left on his own.

Thor asked no questions, but shook his head in disappointment as the guards dragged Loki from the room. As the door closed after them, Thor heard a scuffle in the hallway and the dull thud of blows landing. He flinched.

He gathered the ancient books, tugging pages from under, between, and in them. He stacked the paper with other leaves all covered in Loki's barely legible scrawl. There would be no need to keep them- Loki had used scholarship to make an escape, he would lose that privilege as well. Thor mourned the waste of brilliance. He collected the pages- perhaps Iris could use them.


	3. Chapter 3

Iris appeared on Amaryllis' doorstep, knocked, and waited. When the door opened, Amaryllis hugged her and asked her in. There was no question as to why she was home, and after a few days, she joined her sister in the flower stall she ran in the square and tried to forget about the manuscripts she had walked away from. A few days later, a package arrived from the palace. It was heavy and smelled of paper and ink. She did not open it.

When working the stall a month later, she found herself sketching on the floral paper, creating elaborate designs along the edges, adding lines of poetry with elaborate capitals behind the bouquets. Customers noticed and they began to request her illuminated floral wrapping. It was the one way she could use her centuries of scholarship in her new life. She was not entirely happy, but contentment settled over her when she saw her artwork posted in the shops she visited or had happy customers tell of their significant other framing the messages. Some people asked her to draw for them without flowers, but she steadfastly refused, knowing that the flowers were what bought groceries.

Amaryllis kept her sister busy. There were plants to tend, flowers to cut, and orders to fill. But she did not want to see Iris pining for the life she had walked away from.

"Iris, darling, do you have another sheet ready? This man requested a love poem for his wife on the upper edge of the wrapping. Her hame starts with an E and his with an L, so he wants those letters illuminated."

"I read that order. I am working on the final letter."

"The forgiveness flowers you set last night were well received. Your image of the grovelling monk and the robed woman received compliments."

"I would have never believed I would be an illustrator. My life has been spent studying ancient illuminations, not creating new ones."

"Ah. Well, best to focus on now, not on what has past."

"And yet I still do, Ama. I wonder often if I could gain access to the palace library, even if only once in a while. There are tomes there I have not yet studied, and I miss the feel of ancient manuscripts in my hands."

"You have a career now in the flower shop. We are doing well. You would give this up for your monastic work?"

Iris sighed and set down her pens, "I do not know. I love what we are doing. I love creating art and seeing others delight in what we have both created. But at the same time...I dreamt of living in a monastery when I was a young child and when that dream was restored, I was at peace for the first time since him."

"The opportunity has passed. It is time for other things."

"But must it be?"

Amaryllis handed her the bouquet to wrap, "For now, yes."

"You know who I was studying with, do you not?"

"The prince. He has always shown an aptitude for the scholarly arts. You have still not told me why you left."

"Because he tricked me."

"Yes, but to what ends?"

"One that made me feel insecure and exposed. And one that could have compromised my work. That is all I will tell you."

"Do you have to choose now? We have a wonderful business. We are thriving together."

"No. But some day the work will draw me back. One day I will hear that call again and I will feel as though I am going to go mad if I cannot write again."

Amaryllis put her arms around her sister, "We will find a way to make that dream real. But for now, we must still work to be comfortable each month. Some day, though. And then you can ask the king for time in the palace library. Perhaps you can reconcile with your fellow scholar as well."

"I doubt that last bit."

"Then on your own wings, my love, you will fly."


	4. Chapter 4

A century after leaving the palace, Iris lifted her notes from her trunk and set them out on the dining table. Then she found the few pages she had drafted and set to work arranging her notes.

She had tucked the package at the bottom of the trunk and it finally seemed like a good time to open it. She broke the string and unwrapped the brown paper. There was a note in block print on top.

_"Iris,_

_You worked faithfully for so long. It seems a shame to lose your work. I hope these help you to keep writing. The kingdom's library is open to you._

_Your king and patron,_

_Thor."_

Under his note were hundreds of Loki's cramped pages. She read the first. He made notes by subject, each section a single topic with information copied from many manuscripts gathered together and footnoted. She had never worked that way and her own notes were book by book, her margins crammed tight with her cross-references and connections. She stared at her pages and his and came up with a plan to spread them across the table in a web. His large segments would serve as hubs for an idea, and she would arrange her book notes between them so they linked sections. It would be elaborate, and likely to anyone else just look like the entire table was covered in loose leaf with no sort of discernable arrangement.

Amaryllis entered a few hours later and found Iris busy scribbling in shorthand, her pen slower than her thoughts, scrawls and arrows across her notes to indicate how the connected to other pages. She noticed the brown paper wrapping on the floor and knew it would soon be time for Iris to call on the king.


	5. Chapter 5

A few weeks later, Iris sent a manuscript of her own to Thor and requested an audience. He sent for her and she presented her research to the king and the Abbots and Abbesses of the monasteries. After, there was much lively debate, and then they dispersed for the Remembrance Day feast. Thor had made it an official holiday, the anniversary of the attack from Svartalfheim and the death of the All-Mother. Late into the feast, Iris asked for a private audience and she and Thor retreated to a private antechamber.

"Your Highness, I ask your forgiveness for asking, but how does Loki fare in the dungeon?"

"Your friend is living. I do not visit, but the dungeon master says he is bored, impertinent, and dangerous. I believe this means he is well."

"May I spend some time with him this evening?"

"Yes, I will allow for it. But he is to have no in person visitors. It is too likely that he will escape."

"I understand. He lost everyone's trust, what little he had earned back. I am still saddened by this, but I would like to at least tell him that I completed the first volume of our work."

"I ask that you return here after so that I know you are safe."

"And so there is time to discover any deception."

"Yes. That, too."

"Thank you, sir."

"You are welcome." As he left to return to the feast and she for the dungeons, he extended a hand, "Good work, Iris. You have impressed the monks as well. Perhaps they will reconsider you joining them."

"Possibly, but I am now a sought-after artist and a key part of my sister's business. I would rather study alone and keep up that work than return to a monastic life."

"Still. They must learn that scholarship ought to be open to all who seek it."

"I do wish for it, sir."

"I must return to the feast, but I will see you later."

Iris went to the dungeon.


	6. Chapter 6

Since the institution of the Remembrance Day feast, the dungeon was uncommonly quiet on that anniversary. Of course, Loki was still annually beaten, but after there was blessed silence instead of the cursing and mocking he had grown used to in the years before. He hated having Thor to thank for this peace and was grateful he never visited.

He had been beaten quite thoroughly this time- there were a few new young men in the dungeon guard who were enthusiastic about their work. He was only somewhat aware of his surroundings as they dragged him back to his cell, a trail of blood droplets behind them.

Iris reached the cell as he was being thrown into it and slipped in after the guard, "Oy, you aren't supposed to be in here!"

"Oh leave her be for a minute. I recognise her- she used to visit every week."

"Why'd she stop?"

"She studied with him when they moved him upstairs- they had some kind of falling out and he ended up back here."

The voices faded as they stepped out of the cell.

Iris knelt beside him, his face pressed into the cool stone, blood trickling from his nose, one eye swollen shut, "Come, friend, and rest."

"I am no friend." He slurred his words.

She eased him to drape over her lap and he instinctively curled against her. "You still deserve some small comfort today, of all days." She wiped the blood from his face with the hem of her skirt. "Thor asked that I not sit with you in this manner."

"I am too sore and weak to try to escape."

"I hope there are other reasons you would consider not stealing my body again." She absent-mindedly stroked his hair.

"Perhaps." He shifted to alleviate a little of the pain in his ribs, but it only made it worse. His breath hissed through his teeth. She hauled him to his feet and gently laid him on his cot, tucking the thin blanket around him. "What brings you back, and why do you defy your king?"

"I defy him because it is in my nature."

"And you return?"

"Because I completed volume one and presented it today. I thought you ought to know. Your work was a large part of the text."

"But why today?"

"Because if any day you deserve kindness, it is this one."

"You have believed that for so long."

"Does it surprise you that I still do?"

"Oh yes."

From the folds of her cloaks she drew a single white rose, "As I have done for years."

He took the rose and placed it on his chest, "It surprised me to receive them even after your departure."

"Some things should remain even when friends are angry with one another. You grieve no less."

"It appeared less."

"Appearances are deceiving. You ought to know this best of anyone."

He stroked the flower's silken petals, "I am sorry, Iris. We should have finished the manuscript together."

"You made certain we could not."

"And I beg for your grace and forgiveness."

She watched him intently, looking for any sign of insincerity, "I cannot forget what you did. I cannot trust you as I once did. But forgiveness I can give."

He reached for her, "A hug?"

She smiled, "Yes," and leaned in to embrace him.

"Will you bring me the manuscript?"

"Of course. Thor has ordered a copy printed for the library."

"They have not allowed me to study. I am given children's stories to read and nothing else."

"I will speak on your behalf for this text. It is, after all, yours as well. There is nothing in it you do not already know quite well."

"He will not bring it. He does not visit."

"I will bring it."

"You cannot visit in this way again."

Iris grinned and winked, "I will find a way. You do not worry. I am not so meek that I cannot ask to deliver my own book...or to sneak in behind the guard."

"As you did today."

"Yes. Exactly. You must think me terribly dulled if you believe my razor-wit cannot make a way to the ends I wish."

"I do not know your life this past century. It could have worn you down."

"You have not asked."

"It is easier to think only of one's self so as not to be bitter that life carries on beyond confinement."

"I believe thinking only of yourself is what got you confined to begin with, is it not? Did you not tell me this began when you discovered you were adopted and from where?"

"That was not only for myself." He dropped back on the cot and attempted to cover his eyes with his arm, a way of hiding she had seen many times before. The bruises on his ribs, and possibly a fracture or two, caused him to gasp and drop his arm. She rested a hand on his leg in an attempt at comfort.

"Did you not tell me you wanted to prove yourself, thus plotted against Jotunheim? How is that not solely for yourself?"

"Iris..."

"You will face this if I am to visit again. Selfishness and impatience are why I left and I will not reestablish our friendship only to lose it again because you refuse to see these traits in yourself."

"Could we wait until a different day? I do not like where these conclusions lead me."

"No. This is the one day I am permitted to sit beside you to have this conversation. From here beyond, I will likely be kept outside unless I take great care to plan a visit, surreptitiously or not." She dropped all blunt harshness from her voice and sighed, "This is the only way I can ever repay you for the kindness you showed when you dealt with my husband and the gift of all those years of scholarship together. I can sit beside you as we confront this."

"My actions against your husband are proof I am not solely thinking of myself in everything I do."

"I did not say in everything. Only in what has brought you here."

"And I did not only study for myself. I enjoyed the companionship."

"I understand. I did yours, too. And yet you still, after five hundred years, threw it away to take a walk instead of waiting. You still thought only of your immediate want. So think backwards. Did that same impulsiveness cause all this?" She gestured to the cell around her.

"Do not ask me this." He wanted to turn over and ignore her, but he could not move.

She stood and crouched beside the cot, her face close to his, "Your protesting only convinces me that you have already thought these things through and you know the answer is yes."

"Go away, Iris."

"No."

"You are cruel."

"Only so cruel as yourself."

"Stop..."

"Speak."

"No. No. No."

She touched his cheek, "You say far more when you protest than were you to just talk through things."

"Don't touch me." She let her hand fall.

"Thor will be expecting me back to the feast. He wishes to make certain that no trickery has occurred. But I will return to visit. And I hope you will not throw this opportunity away as you did the last. I can forgive you and give you a second chance, but I will give you no third." She left.

Loki stared at the ceiling. He cast an illusion to protect himself from the guard and, laying as still as the dead, tears rolled down his cheeks.


	7. Chapter 7

A week later, Iris returned with her book. She sat on the bench outside his cell and waited. Loki was absorbed by something at his desk.

"Good afternoon, Loki."

"I would not know. There is no sense of time here and they have not yet brought the dreck they call my supper."

"I have brought our book. Thor had one bound for you. It is quite lovely."

"And how are you to deliver it?"

"A guard is coming to allow me to hand it to you in a few moments." She rose and approached the barrier, "Will you come to receive it, or am I to leave it on the floor?"

"I have not yet decided."

"You are being quite difficult."

"Of course I am. You do recall what you put me through last week, do you not?"

"I only made you think. You are responsible for your own actions and reactions."

The guard arrived, "Only a few minutes. And the king says I cannot let you enter. So put it on the floor and we will be done."

"I would prefer to hand it to him, if he will have it."

"Then he had best come this way." Loki sighed, set down his book, and stood in front of the barrier. Four other guards stood behind Iris, their weapons aimed. The barrier dropped.

Grace held the book out and forward. He considered snubbing her offering, snatching it from her hands and retreating to his desk, or even refusing to take it, forcing her to lay it at his feet. While both these sounded appealing, he had been thinking far too much about what she had said on Remembrance Day and when his eyes met hers, he could not help but feel as though this moment was a test.

He reached for the book with both hands, his fingers brushing hers as he delayed taking it from her for just a moment, "Thank you, Iris. For this and all your dedication to creating it."

She stepped back and the barrier returned, "You are welcome. But it is yours as well. Thor sent me your notes." She settled back on the bench and the guards dispersed.

"The binding is beautiful."

"It is no more so than the interior."

He crouched down and opened the volume, "Who did the illuminations? They are stunning."

"I did."

He traced the elaborate filigree on the title page, "You? You are no mere scholar; you are an artist...and why is my name here?"

"You researched much of it. I thought it only fair that you be credited for your work."

"But an author..."

"I lifted your words from your notes many times. You wrote as much as I did."

He closed the book with reverence and held it to his chest, "This is a great gift."

"Spend time with it this week. Amaryllis is expecting me at the flower shop and I must go, but I will return." She left.

He took his time rising, the book cradled against him. He took it to his desk and shoved the books of fairy tales to the back, clearing space for the leather and brass bound volume in his hands. He carefully opened the cover and began to read, paying careful attention to every illustration in the margins.


	8. Chapter 8

The following Remembrance Day, Iris asked Thor to allow her an in-person visit to Loki's cell. He did not want to grant her the visit, but she pointed out that she would simply find ways to sneak in with the guards to sit with her friend. And so he granted her visit. They had not spoken of his selfishness or his path to imprisonment the entire year. She had seen little moments of humility during their conversations, but still wanted to find a way to ask him.

She arrived before he returned to the cell. One of the guards let her into the cell and she settled at his desk to wait, paging through one of the volumes of children's tales. She tugged a blank piece of paper from his pile and retrieved his pen, sketching as she read. By the time she heard the commotion in the hall that indicated he was being returned, she had a coverplate made for the story, with a dancing princess, the lines of her dress swirling around her like the fire she became in the story. She left the paper and pen on the desk and sat down on his cot, the guards flinging him into the cell not long after. He did not move, his body limp.

"Loki?"

He did not answer. She knelt at his back and gently turned him from where he had landed on his side. Blood trickled from his mouth, his shirt askew revealing dark bruises on his chest. She found his pulse and felt for breath. Finding both, she gently shook him. No answer. She wiped the blood from his lips and tried to arrange him comfortably, retrieving his pillow and blanket from the cot, and waited. She placed the white rose on his desk and sat down to continue her illustrations while she watched for him to wake.

It took a few hours for him to stir. First a low moan, then he tried to move and the moan turned into a soft cry as he realized how much he hurt. She sat beside him and took his hand.

"Iris?"

"Of course."

"I hate this place."

"I know."

"I deserve this."

"No, you do not."

"How do I not? I have committed treason, actions that destabilized the realms, killed hundreds, if not thousands, and my actions brought on the death of my beloved mother. How do I not deserve every blow?"

"Because you are a flawed being and cannot continually be punished for things you have come to regret. I do not understand lifelong punishment. I have never. I do not understand execution for the same reason. We change. All of us. Even you."

"I did as you asked. I thought. And I hoped perhaps they would kill me this time. You are right. I am a selfish and thoughtless creature."

"Rest, Loki. Your throat sounds raw. We will talk later. But I can assure you I have seen you so much more mindful of your actions this past year."

"I am so sorry."

"There is nothing more to apologise to me for. We made amends."

"Then I have made right what I can. Thank you, Iris. But you will not see me next week."

"What? He tried to sit up and she shook her head, resting a hand on his cheek, "Where will you be?"

"Gone. I will end this. Thor will no longer need to think of me, if he does at all."

"But you are my friend."

"And your work is incredible. Beautiful. I considered departing before, but I wanted the chance to tell you how deeply moved I was by your illuminations. Your work is masterful."

"Thank you. I hope what I drew while waiting for you to awaken will inspire you to stay to see what else I will create. My work is merely beginning to blossom."

"Perhaps." She heard the sadness in his voice. He was not going to promise her anything, and she was not going to know his intentions until she saw him the following week or received word that there was no need.

"Come, to the cot. It is more comfortable than the floor." As always, she hauled him to the bed and tucked him in, fluffing the pillow before placing it behind his head. The exertion brought on a coughing fit and he curled on his side, sobbing quietly, the pain more than he could hide. She tended to the fresh blood at the corner of his lips and adjusted his blanket, hoping she could at least make him a little more comfortable. She left only after he fell deeply asleep, leaving a note of encouragement on his desk in illuminated elaborate script.


	9. Chapter 9

A few days later, Amaryllis answered a knock on the door to find a messenger from the palace, "Is this where I might find Iris the illustrator?"

"Yes. She is working at the moment."

"She has a summons from the palace."

She called over her shoulder, "Did you hear that, Sister? The palace calls."

"I am in the middle of a rather intricate design."

"She is not able to come this instant. Can it perhaps wait a few minutes?"

"No, miss, it cannot. The king says she is to come now. Urgent matter."

Iris called, "Have him step in, Ama." She addressed him directly, "What is so urgent that I cannot spare a moment for my work?"

"His Highness said if you hesitated, I was to tell you that the prince has made an attempt on his life with a letter opener and your presence is required at the palace."

She dropped her pen, "Oh..." All colour drained from her face, "Ama, I think I will finish this later."

"Go. The client can wait. Your friend cannot." Amaryllis draped a shawl over Iris' shoulders as she dashed for the door.

Once on the road, the messenger spoke, "I apologise for bringing you the news so bluntly. The king said I was to be explicitly clear."

"Does he live?"

"Yes, the prince lives."

"Has he said anything?"

"He has not regained consciousness, miss."

"What did he do to himself?"

"I was not told. You will have to ask that yourself."

They were met at the palace gate by soldiers who escorted her to the infirmary; Thor sat in the waiting area, "Iris. Please, sit. I trust my messenger told you what happened?"

"Loki tried to kill himself with a letter opener." She found stating what she knew harder than hearing it. Her words sounded hollow and her heart sank farther than she thought possible.

"Yes."

"How?"

"His wrists. He bled much. His illusion only fell once he lost consciousness. Then the guards found him."

"Oh..."

"They do not know if he will live."

"May I see him?"

"Not yet. I need answers. He crossed his arms over his chest as he bled, his hands folded over a note from you and a wilting white rose. Did you know this might happen?"

"Yes."

"Why did you not tell anyone?"

"I did. I told the guard as I left that they needed to keep a very close eye on him, that something was not right and he was not feeling at all himself and might cause himself harm. I did what I could."

Thor nodded, "He made interruption impossible. What did you say in the letter? It was ruined with blood."

"I told him that beauty is everywhere in this world, even in his cell, and I gifted him my drawings. I told him that he was also beautiful and I found inspiration to create in his wild wondering spirit."

"And the rose?"

"I have given him a white rose on the anniversary of the All-Mother's death for many years."

"Why did he do this now?" Thor clearly still cared deeply about Loki, the confusion and pain written across his face, "Why, after all these years?"

"Because I asked him to think."

"What?"

"I asked him to consider what brought him to imprisonment. What lost him my company for a century and what lost him our scholarship. His selfishness. His disregard for others. He told me that everything was his fault. Your Highness, he faced a lifetime under lock and key with nothing to move him past the consuming regret he discovered. Why would he not? What hope does...did? -he have?"

"But why that day?"

"Do you know that he is brutally beaten every year on the anniversary of her death as punishment for taking the throne?"

Thor's face fell, "What?"

"I speak truth. I have wiped the blood from his lips, his nose, and comforted him until he is able to move enough to pull himself off the floor every year I have been present."

"Did it happen when you were studying together as well?"

"Yes. Some years were easier than others. This year he hoped they would finally beat him to death."

"No one told me."

"And why would they? The punishment was well under way when you ascended the throne. You did not order a change, old commands were followed."

"I should have asked."

"That would not have changed today. Only changed when today happened." Iris dropped her head into her hands, "Please, sir, let me see him."

Thor said nothing, but rose and offered her his hand. He lead her through winding hallways to a small room where a woman in grey kept vigil by Loki's side. His hands rested on his stomach, his wrists heavily bandaged. Tubes ran from his arms to bags of solutions and blood hanging from a stand. Thor took one side. Iris stood on the other. She set her hand over his.

"Loki...I wish you would have waited and let me speak to you again."

"Yet again, he only thought of himself," Thor added.

"Yes...and no. I would imagine he thought he was doing the world a favour by eliminating himself from it. And I would imagine he could think no farther than his belief that he created the situation that brought on the death of your mother. That alone would be enough for him to feel unworthy of life."

"And how is that not selfish?"

"I think a selfish action must be made with an active disregard for others...when someone makes a deliberate choice to ignore their needs."

"And?"

"I sat with him on Remembrance Day. I saw the look in his eyes and heard him cry in agony as I moved him. This was different. This was not Loki acting as Loki is wont to do, taking because he can and he does not care. This was Loki caring far more than he could handle and deciding the only way to make amends was to eliminate the problem- himself."

Something dawned on Thor, "Did he make amends with you?"

"Yes. I would not have returned to my weekly visits had he not."

"He did not with me."

"You do not think this is his means of doing so?"

"Did he say it was? He left no note."

"He said you would no longer need to think of him when he was gone. Nothing else."

Thor sighed, "What can I do, Iris? If he awakens, there is but one option- to return him to the dungeon."

"Where he will simply try again."

"Yes. Perhaps with his dinner fork, or with something he conjures. But I cannot release him."

"Why not?"

"Because he is dangerous."

"After all this time? I hardly think so. He will need help recovering from...everything. And then he will want to feed his mind and to have a small measure of freedom. There is no will to destroy this place."

"You cannot be certain. So long as he is confined to this palace he will resent Asgard."

She brushed an errant hair from his cheek, "Then do not keep him here."

"Then where?"

"Asgard knows nothing of where he is from, why the Bifrost 'malfunctioned', or where he went after. The attack from Svartalfheim was unprovoked. And when it was revealed that somehow he had taken the throne...well, we did not know when or how and no answers were provided. Whatever happened is why it is believed he is imprisoned."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I could take him in, if you wished. Guards would not be strange around the home of the prince, and no one would know that he was still under heavy supervision."

"I cannot do that, Iris."

"Then at least stop the beatings. He hurts enough on Remembrance Day."

"How would you control him?"

"I would not, but I would keep him busy enough he had no time for boredom. There is a business to be run, notes for our second and third volumes to be compiled. I have illustrations and illuminations to create and I would imagine there are stories in his mind he would love to tell. The threat of returning here would, no doubt, keep him more focused."

"You seem to have thought much on this. And to be quite confident in your plan."

"I have and I am."

"But first he must awaken."

"Yes. That is the first step."


	10. Chapter 10

When Iris returned to her home that evening, Amaryllis met her at the door, "How is he?"

"Unconscious. They do not know if he will live through the night."

"Oh, Iris, love... I am so sorry." She opened her arms and Iris fell into them, resting against her sister, trying not to cry, "Relax. You must let go some time. Best do it now." So Iris cried for her friend and for everything she had envisioned for their future. And when she could finally stop and calm herself, she took a deep breath, brushed away her tears and straightened the front of her dress.

"There is much work to be done. Please, Ama, let me work." She settled at the table and placed the list of commissions beside her as returned to the drawing she had been working on when the messenger arrived. As the daylight dimmed, Amaryllis silently lit the lamps, watching her sister diligently push through the list, crossing off piece after piece, her finished work immaculate. When she went to bed, she knew she would find Iris at the table in the morning.

In the middle of the night, Iris finished the list and set it aside. She retrieved a piece of scrap paper. On her way home, she had come up with an idea- something she could gift to Loki, whether he regained consciousness or not. A book. His story, as he had told it in pieces to her, written in her elaborate script, richly illuminated, and fully illustrated. She quickly outlined her idea and then set to work. There would be time for sleep later. Tonight, her art was her prayer that he would survive the night.

At dawn, Amaryllis opened the dining room windows while Iris put the finishing touches on her pages, "What did you make last night, Sister? And did you sleep?"

"No, I did not. But I made a masterpiece."

Amaryllis hovered behind her, "Show me."

She started with the cover illustration of the prince at his desk diligently writing something on a long scroll that draped over the back, a pile of books behind him. Amaryllis had been stunned by the simple grace of her sister's illustrations for years. While her illuminated capitals were more traditional and her knotwork was exceptional, her illustration style was never coloured and reminded her of the elaborate paper-cut pictures that she had seen framed in the homes of the older women, mounted on black paper. They were not vast swatches of black with very little white paper left to merely outline scenes. They were paper lace, their scenes elaborate, the lattice often fine and delicate. This was the way Iris illustrated. Often she hid forms in the linework, little hidden elements of her stories.

As she turned through the pages, Amaryllis was struck by how much Iris knew about Loki's life, "What is this picture with the Bifrost? Do you mean to tell me that he was behind the malfunction so many years ago?"

"You will tell no one what you see in this. There are parts of his story he does not want known yet. I will share them in more detail with you when the time is right, but not while his life is so precarious. Right now, his secrets are his alone to share."

A few pages later, there was an illustration of Loki with a sceptre standing over two men. And then he was shown imprisoned, his cell in complete disarray. There was another image of him flying on a skiff over the water, and then a large page with him on the throne, half his face Odin, half his. Then his cell in its simpler arrangement, a pile of books on the desk, a body crumpled on the floor. Another showed both Iris and Loki studying in more elaborate chambers, the piles of books so high they framed the picture. And lastly he lay with a rose on his chest, a note under his hands, eyes closed, blood flowing from his wrists. On the last page, the final character, a question mark, was in an illuminated square the same way the capitals at the start of her sections were.

"A beautiful gift, Sister. But what if he is no longer living?"

"Then I will send it with him to the next world. But it is not my story to keep."

"Iris, this is one of the most beautiful pieces I have ever seen you create. You cannot simply send it to the flames."

"I can do what I wish with it, it is my work. If I can create something this beautiful once, I can do it again."

"But I do not see how anything else will have such love in it."

"I know. My decision stands. This one is his." She gathered her pages, put away her drawing tools, and rose from the table, "Hand me some of the brown wrapping paper. I want to protect this before I travel."

"You will spend the day at the palace again?"

"Of course. You would expect anything else?"

"No. Nothing else." She hugged Iris, "You are one of the most dedicated people I have ever known. I pray you do not feel heartbreak on this day."

"Thank you." She wrapped her book and took her leave for the palace.


	11. Chapter 11

Iris arrived at the palace and was quickly escorted back to the infirmary. Thor was dozing in a chair in Loki's room, so she quietly settled in on Loki's other side. She slipped her package beneath his hands with a single white rose.

"I miss you, my friend. I hope I will speak to you again. There are so many stories we could yet tell."

Thor woke, "Good morning, Iris."

"Good morning, sir."

"There have been no changes through the night. We still wait." He studied her face, "You appear weary. Did you not sleep?"

"No. There was work to be done."

"Surely your clients would have understood the delay?"

"It was not my clients I was concerned for, your Highness."

He noticed the package and the fresh rose under Loki's hands, "Ah. May I ask what you created for him?"

"A prayer, of sorts. His story, as he told it to me. An open question. And if he ends, so will it, consigned to flames with him."

"I do not understand. You wrote something only to destroy it?"

"No. I wrote something so that he might live. There is a belief that if you put your energies into something precious for someone, that energy will sustain them. So I created one of my most elaborate illustrated sets for him. A masterpiece. And I gift that to him in the hopes that it will bring him home to us. If it does not...tradition states that the giver determines where their object goes- to the family, back to them, or to the skies to carry the intended to the next world."

"And you ascribe to this belief?"

"I ascribe to that which brings me hope. In this moment, yes, no matter how unlikely."

"That I understand. It seems we are in for another day of waiting."

Later in the day, Thor allowed himself to conclude that there was little he could do for Loki and it was going to be someone else who saved him this time, "I will allow your experiment in hope."

"What experiment?"

"Bringing him to your home and teaching him your work. But you will be watched and he will be returned to the dungeon if he does anything threatening."

"Thank you, sir."

"You honestly believe you can keep him under control?"

She smiled and touched Loki's hand, "He is fire, Thor. Uncontrolled flame spiralling beyond all reach. I do not seek to control him. I seek to direct him to something useful. Even a raging blaze can be contained in a furnace and used to forge steel and create fine goblets."

"I hope you are right."

"You know if I am not that he will only try again."

Thor took Loki's other hand, "I do. And I very much pray that your plan will work. I do not want to lose him this way...or any other."

Nothing had changed by the time Iris returned home late that evening. Amaryllis made supper and Iris struggled to stay awake while they ate. She fell into bed at the end of the meal and slept soundly until late the next morning. When she woke, breakfast was waiting on the table and Amaryllis was busy building floral arrangements for a wedding.

"Ama? I have a question for you."

She sensed the hesitation in the question, "Oh? And why does it give you pause to ask it?"

"Because your answer may very well be a matter of life or death."

"And you fear what I might answer."

"I do not know what you might answer. You have heard pieces..." She took a deep breath, "Thor and I have discussed Loki's situation and we feel it best that he no longer be kept in the palace. I have asked that he consider releasing him to our home and to our work that he might find meaning in our day to day living."

"How did he trick you when you left the palace?"

"He wore my form to leave the palace and spend a day in the city without my knowledge."

"And for that you left?"

"He stole my body, Ama. While not the same as before, my body, my form, is mine and mine alone to determine. We had switched once before, but that did not imply he could take it again without my consent."

"And you do not fear him coming here and doing so again?"

"No, I do not."

"There are parts of his story you will not tell me."

"Yes."

"Might they sway me to tell you no?"

"They might. There were years he was very cruel to those he once loved."

"And do you fear the same?"

"No. He ripped his wrists open with a letter opener to escape his self loathing and guilt. I do not think he will seek destruction such cruelty again."

"And what about such violence against himself?"

"He certainly will do so again if he is returned to the dungeon. He might while here. But it is the only idea we have. Exile would serve the same distance, but rejection turns quickly to hatred and he would most likely seek to destroy again."

Amaryllis set her flowers aside, "This is the one final chance you can give him, is it not?"

"Yes."

"And if it looks as though he is becoming dangerous?"

"Thor will take him."

"Then yes. We can try. But he has only one chance."

Iris let out a breath she was unaware she was holding, "Thank you, Sister."

"You are welcome. Now finish your breakfast before it gets cold." She quickly finished her breakfast and headed to the palace.


	12. Chapter 12

When Iris arrived, Thor met her in the hallway, "I have news."

"I hope it is good."

"He awoke late last night. When he realized where he was, he began thrashing and swearing, tearing at his bandages. I had to hold him down and they sedated him."

"Oh."

"Yes. They...they said that if he continues to behave so, they may keep him sedated longer. They do not want to wake him until they can find a way to calm him. He may be sedated for the remainder of his life if no one can reach him."

"How cruel..."

"What?" Thor is surprised by her reaction, her voice sad, but slightly angry.

"To take one who wanted so badly to leave this life that he sought to do so again upon waking and to extend his life to a waking nightmare, trapped in his own mind, would be cruel."

"He would not know."

"A lie. You know even living in a sedated haze that Loki would slowly come to understand what was happening to him. He is intelligent. Living in such a way would only foster hatred and resentment, cementing his determination to break free of it, likely with death. To believe anything else is to deny that you have ever known him."

Thor sighed, "We have very few other options other than to let him die."

"No, you do not have many...but you must first try to give him hope."

"Did you speak to your sister about your plan?"

"Yes. She hesitated, not knowing the nature of his crimes or the story of the Bifrost, but was reassured by the promise that he would be closely watched. That this is his one chance, I think, made her decision easier. She knows he will not ruin us and then return."

"You have not told her what he has done? Midgard, either?"

"No. It is not my story to tell."

They entered Loki's room to see the attending nurse adjusting one of the drip bags. As usual, Iris settled on one side, Thor on the other.

He spoke to the nurse, "We will try to wake him today."

"I do not think that is wise, your Highness. You saw how he behaved last night- as a wild creature, or thing possessed."

"But we did not have Iris then."

"And who is she to him?"

"His friend."

"I do not think a friend will be enough, but if you insist."

The nurse left and Thor turned to Iris, "What do you plan to do? And what do you need me to do?"

"I will want you at his shoulders in case he wakes violently. But I will be here, beside him, speaking as he comes to. But do not touch him until it becomes absolutely necessary."

Medical personnel filed into the room and Thor took up his position at the head of the bed. One of the tubes was disconnected, another hooked up instead, and something injected into the line. Iris sat and waited. The others in the room were notably tense.

When he began to mutter to himself and toss his head side to side, she leaned closer, rested a hand on his cheek and whispered, "Come up, Loki, come up from the darkness. I am right here, waiting for you. Please, friend, wake." He calmed, still muttering. Then he started cursing and tried to sit up, his eyes squeezed closed. She put her hand on his chest and gently pushed him back, "No. Not yet. Rest." He fought back, thrashing, and yelled his curses louder and Thor thought he was going to have to step in. This was how things had started the night before. Iris kept talking. His cursing slowed and he dropped back on the pillow, breathing heavily.

"Everyone leave me. Even you, Thor." Iris rose with the others, "No. Not you." She sat back down. Thor touched her shoulder as he passed. When the curtain closed behind him, she turned to the small table near the wall and picked up the wrapped package. The white rose was torn and dirty and she assumed it had been trampled the night before. She slipped the package beside him between his arm and side, "What is this?"

"A gift. A prayer. Something I made. I brought you a white rose with it, but it appears it was damaged last night." She held up the tattered rose, "It is a good thing I brought you a new one today." From the folds of her skirts she produced a butter yellow rose, "For hope." She handed it to him.

He pushed her hand away, "No. I have none."

"You do. You do not know it, but you do."

"Iris, stop this. You know it is the cell and only the cell in my future. I wish he would just execute me and be done with this. Mercy is far more cruel." He tried to sit up. She pressed him down, but he smacked her hand away, "I said no!" He sat up and began to tear at his bandages, angry tears in his eyes, "Just give me this one last freedom!" She stood and took his shoulders, "Get off and let me go!"

"No. Stop, listen."

"There is nothing left to be said!" One of his bandages fell away and he paused, staring at the stitches.

"Yes, there is. There is another way." She bent to look him in the eyes, "Please, just hear me."

He looked up from his wrist and tore the bandage fom the other, "One minute only. Then this ends."

She wiped the hot tears from his cheeks, "Thor told me this morning that they want to sedate you for the rest of your life if you cannot calm yourself and find a reason not to die. You would live in a haze, your brilliance kept from you. I cannot allow that. So you must focus and listen."

"I am."

She sat down on the edge of his bed, "I have proposed a plan to Thor to take you away from here. Amaryllis has consented to allow you into our home. You would learn to live with us- from the mundane tasks, such as cooking and cleaning, to the day to day business of the flower shop and my illustrations for cards and packaging. You would simply be a part of life and beauty of living it."

"There is no beauty in living my life."

"Perhaps you cannot see it now, but this world is full of incredible things. You are one of them. This palace is utterly breathtaking. And yet because you are in it every day, you cannot see it as such. I ask that you make your recovery and then come with me. You will only have one chance, though- Thor is prepared to pull you from my home if you become a threat."

"Your sister is inviting as well?"

"She says you have one chance."

"Have you told her...well, everything?"

"No. It is not my story to tell. It is yours." She retrieved the package and put it on his lap, "And please accept this gift."

He winced as he took it into his hands, "What is it?"

"Your story."

"I am bleeding." He set the package on his lap and Iris retrieved the bandage, gently rewrapping his wrists, watching him carefully.

"There. It hurts, does it not? Would you like me to open this for you and show you what I have brought?"

"Yes. Terribly. And yes, please."

She handed him the butter yellow rose and untied the parcel. She held the book up so he could see it. He stared in awe and asked her to turn the page. She did, and waited for him to ask again. They went through the entire book in this manner. At the end, he touched the question mark and bowed his head.

"Is this the end, Loki? Will you risk a life of sedation if you fail this time? Or will you come with me?"

"Tell me more about your life. What will my days be like?"

"We will rise with the sun, earlier on market days. There will be breakfast together and time in the gardens cutting flowers. Then we arrange them in bundles, vases, wreathes, and whatever else we need, before taking them to the shop beside our house. There is a small greenhouse between the two. Sometimes we take our lunch there, surrounded by the plants in the warm sun. We keep the shop until the late afternoon and then close up. I spend much time illustrating wrapping, writing messages, and creating art for our orders. In the evenings we take walks, or picnic, or escape to the water's edge. Some days we read and discuss what we are reading. I spend time writing and Amaryllis is interested in what I create. Then we take a late supper together and retire to bed. It is a simple life, but I find it to be what I enjoy."

"I know how to do so few of those things."

"I know. But you can learn."

"And you think this life would make me happy?"

"Yes."

"How?" His question was honest- having never had the opportunity to live any life but that of a prince, he did not know how others could satisfy him. No adventures on a whim, no servants, things done by one's self instead of being taken care of by someone else.

"Because we are the masters of our own destiny. The shop is ours. Our customers allow us to bring joy and healing into their lives through flowers and plants. We create art, beautiful things for ourselves and to let go into our community. We are useful, we have purpose and aim. And even the simple act of caring for one's own laundry is a measure of freedom. You have always had others to do these things for you. A prince is dependent on others to survive. We ensure our own survival."

"I do not understand. But if you think I could find life there..."

"I do. Plants and art are delightfully healing."

"I feel as though I owe you as much. You put so much of yourself in these pages...you ascribe to the old beliefs?"

"Some of them."

"But this one- the gift of self, the creation of a relic...this one is rare."

"It is one of many of my little oddities."

"One I did not see when we dwelled together before."

"I had no need to reveal it. I do not want you to come if you do not want to, though. If you come only out of obligation, you will not willingly learn my life, and you will be miserable."

He reached for her, "Thank you. I must think."

"Then I will sit quietly while you do."

Thor entered the room not long after and sat down quietly, amazed that he had not had to intervene. Loki ignored him and spent his time studying Iris' book. Late in the afternoon, the nurse returned to remove one of the tubes and Loki ignored her as well. When she reached for his bandages, he yanked his wrists from her and glared.

"You have to have your bandages checked, sir, and your stitches. If you do not, I will sedate you and do it anyway."

"You will not."

"Yes, actually, I will. It would not bother me to keep you sedated your entire time here if you do not cooperate."

The truth of what Iris had told him sank in and glanced in her direction, "She must observe. I wish her to know how to help me care for the wounds." Iris did not know if his wish was genuine or a defense to make sure someone else was there with the nurse, but she hovered behind his shoulder, gently touching his back as the nurse began her work.

"These are not wrapped correctly. Did you remove them?"

He refused to answer, so Iris spoke, "Only briefly. I did the best I could, but you see why he asked that I learn how you wish it done!" She smiled. The nurse sighed and attempted a smile back.

She examined the wounds, "You have pulled your stitches a bit. You did more damage late last night, but your healing will take longer if you continue this ridiculous behaviour." She cleaned the skin and he winced as the fluid on her cloths stang. When she bandaged his wrists again, she narrated her movements and Iris watched closely. She thanked the nurse.

"I do not know what kind of friend you are, but I hope you can get a handle on him before he destroys himself." She left the room.

He returned to his book and Iris hugged him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder, "A determined one, that's what kind."

"A good one, Iris. Better than I have been."

"You do your best. That is all any of us can do."

"Oh, come now. You cannot honestly say that I have been a decent friend. I stole your form knowing of your history. And I did not even think of our work when I did. You were right. I am a selfish creature."

"But you can always do better. I have seen it."

"But I did this. And it would have been best for you had no one found me."

Thor stepped forward and Loki flinched, then tried to pretend he wasn't there, "No, Loki, it would not have been best for all of us. I have thought much these past few days. I have not cut you off so cleanly as I had thought. I worry for you, Brother. And I am grateful you live."

"You have not visited me in centuries. I do not think of you."

Iris sat down on the edge of the bed, "I think you are lying to yourself as well as to us."

"As much as I value our friendship, and possibly because I do, I ask that you stay out of this."

"What was it I characterized myself as centuries ago? Irritatingly persistent? It still rings true."

"It would have to for you to return after I threw away five centuries of scholarship."

"It seems that Thor and I likely share a trait. We are both doggedly determined not to give up on you, my infuriatingly stubborn friend."

"Infuriatingly stubborn?"

"You resist every effort to reassure you when you want to wallow in pity and you are doggedly determined to keep us at a distance when you so wish so that you can convince yourself that you are alone. But you are not. And I love that you are stubborn because it means that you will put up with my persistence because it is the way we are. But there are some days I wish you would redirect it to more constructive means as we did when we were studying together."

Loki opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, thought for a moment, and then said, "That is precisely the kind of thing my mother would have said."

Thor saw his window, "And she was right so often about you, so much more than Father or I ever saw. I admit this, and I am sorry that I did not understand."

"Do you know what they have done to me every year on the anniversary of her death?"

"I did not until Iris told me a few days ago."

"Every year, Thor. Every year for the past how many centuries?"

"Far too many. But this year was the last, whether you chose to take Iris' offer or not."

"I do not wish to make amends, Thor." He looked at his bandaged wrists, "The only debt I sought to settle was the one I had with Iris. Once that was done..." He returned his attention to Iris' book, tracing the border of the image of him flying the skiff over the water.

"And what if I wish to make them with you? I have sought to erase you from my mind, content in the thought that the creature you had become was caged in the dungeon. I believed I no longer needed to seek you once I knew where you always would be, but I was wrong. Loki, I ought to have been seeking your heart all these years. I have failed as your brother as I flourished as a king. I do not know you anymore, Brother, but I wish to. I ask for your forgiveness."

"No. I cannot. Not yet." He turned the page, then another, leafing forward to the picture of him on the throne, "Perhaps in time."

"He never fully forgave you, did he?" He does not answer, "I will wait for you." Thor leaned forward and touched Loki's hand. Loki glanced at it, then at Thor, and nodded in acknowledgement before drawing his hand away.

"If you please, I have a cool and unaffected air I must present for the medical staff when they come to check my bandages again. They would expect no less from the aloof prince." There is a small smirk on his face.

Thor smiled and shook his head, "Indeed. I must check on the business of the kingdom, but I will return tonight and we will discuss your future."

After he was gone, Loki sighed, "That was excruciating."

"You did well, my friend. And you do not need to make amends with Thor if you cannot bring yourself to do so honestly. But perhaps some day you will."

"I need to. But not today, not here, and not while I do not have the power to leave when I must." He squinted at the capital on one of her pages, "Is that a monkey doing...oh my...and a nun?"

"Do you remember the book that was from?"

"Yes. It was...interesting."

"I hid the one with the potato and the chickens in one of the page borders, too. It may take you a while to find that one, though."

"You did this all in a single night?"

"I was quite driven. It was a feeling of madness, as though the ink was working through me, but not guided by my own hand. There are so many years of memories and thoughts in those drawings."

"May I have it bound?"

"Yes. However you see fit. I left the space in the margins for it."

"I will come with you."

"Thank you. We will make plans when Thor returns."

"Will you sit beside me as I study your pictures?"

"Of course. I delight in seeing people discover the hidden in them. And I hid quite a lot in this."

"Including chickens."

"With a potato."

"Yes, the potato. How could I neglect the saucy potato?"


	13. Chapter 13

Iris spent the following few days with Amaryllis cleaning out the guest room to make it suitable for someone to sleep in. For years, it had been used for spare pots and planters, vases and wrapping paper, and finding the bed under the heaps proved to be a bit of a challenge. Once they did, Amaryllis fretted about the room, the curtains, the lack of artwork on the walls, and the quality of the bedsheets.

"Ama, he has been living in a prison cell and sleeping on a cot with only a writing desk as his furniture for the past century, as well as many years before our scholarship. He will be happy to discover the sunlight in his window. You need not worry so much."

"He is a prince, Iris. A prince! Living in our house! How is that not something to worry about?"

"Because he is also my friend and I lived with him for five centuries. While his room was opulent, he ignored most of the finery and paid most attention to his desk. When I go to escort him here, I will ask if there is anything he wishes to bring. I doubt there will be much."

"We do not have room for much- the wardrobe is as large as is comfortable for the room and you see the space we have for a desk. Is the one he preferred quite large?"

"No. We stacked our books beside it and sat close to do our reading. Our notes sat on our laps on writing boards, the tome we studied as large as the desk itself."

"His room was likely draped in tapestries. I cannot even find a quilt to hang above his bed to give this space some colour..."

"Ama, stop! Just stop worrying! I will take care of such things. I am going to the palace today to make some arrangements. When I return, you will see, everything will be as it should be." She kissed her sister's cheek and gave her a quick hug before attending to her business. When she returned, she pulled a small trunk behind her. Amaryllis was curious and watched as she opened it at the dining table. She laid out a few folded lengths of silk, a heavier brocade in many shades of rich greens, and a small pile of papers.

"What do you have there?"

"Illustrations I made while waiting for him to wake from his last beating."

"These are from children's stories."

"Yes. The only thing he was allowed to read for a century. But there is so much I think he missed in them...so I drew what they have hidden."

"He will not resent the reminder?"

"No. Because I do not think he will know what stories all of them represent. It is a mystery."

"He has spent years reading them, though."

"Yes, over and over...but never hearing them told. And never knowing that they contain secrets as deep as some of the old volumes we studied."

"You will use this to teach him."

"Yes. There is meaning in even the little things, whole worlds we so frequently overlook."

"You are showing yourself as a practitioner of the old ways, Sister," Amaryllis teased.

"Ah, yes- I am ever the mystic."

"What else did you bring?"

Iris unfolded the brocade- it was a long, narrow piece, and reminded Amaryllis of a forest, "There is a little of this hanging in his room. Not much was ever woven, and it is a favorite of his. Thor found the remnant for me. Or had it found. We will frame it for the space above his bed."

"It is the perfect size. And what is the silk?"

"For curtains. They are not exactly like those he has in his room, but they better match the brocade. They are painted to look like a forest canopy."

"And what of his furniture?"

"I will go back tomorrow to talk to him about that. He is impatient with his healing, so they do not want to let him pack for fear he will again pull his stitches. The threat of sedation is the only thing keeping him from fighting the nurses. He is doing his best to walk the fine line between irritating and infuriating."

Amaryllis sat down at the table, "Tell me what it will be like when he is here, Iris. What do you envision?"

"We will eat together, work together, and take outings together. He loves books of all kinds, so reading in the evenings will be time we all enjoy. I will encourage him to think of his own stories. We will, at times, argue, but we will make amends. He has the capacity for great anger and great bitterness, but I think we will see him bloom here. Consider this, Ama- he has never lived where he had to take complete care of himself. Someone has always brought his meals, washed his clothes, swept his floors. I have told him how much he will learn and he fears failure. We will have to teach him so much. And he will likely become frustrated."

"He will also likely be so proud of himself when he masters what we consider simple daily tasks. We will have to be very encouraging, will we not?"

"Oh yes. We do not want him to give up. It will be an adjustment, after so many years of living only the two of us, but I think we will do well. You must remember that I have lived with him and have seen his habits. Trust me."

"I do, lest I would not be allowing this. There will be guards?"

"There will be a few. They have been instructed to watch from a distance and to patrol inconspicuously so as not to frighten our customers."

"And do you think he will learn to work with the plants as we do?"

"Yes. That is part of what I have told him I expect. He will live and work as one of us."

Amaryllis sighed, "I hope with all my being that you are right. We are taking a very big risk, Iris."

"I know. But I think it will lead us all to something far brighter than were we to not."


	14. Chapter 14

It was nearly a week later when Iris was summoned to the palace to move Loki into her home. She had sent him a sketch of the room and dimensions for the wardrobe in advance and hoped he had done some thinking so the packing would go quickly. She had always hated packing, even though she had never moved with more than her trunk. It always seemed to take so long to get everything in it, if only because things tend to wander to where they are most used and that means her few items were always spread across her entire living quarters, whether that was at her parents' house, her husband's house, or in Loki's chambers.

When she arrived in the infirmary, a nurse was very sternly telling Loki that he was not, under any circumstances, to carry anything. Loki was trying to argue that the unbound book Iris had left was not heavy enough to do any damage and she was not willing to bend on just what she meant by anything. Iris slipped in and retrieved the book.

"Stop giving the poor woman a hard time. Today is a joyful day, not a day you get to irritate everyone we encounter."

"But I take great joy in needling others."

"I know, and you are quite good at it, but not today. Be happy, and share that with them."

"If I do not do it now, I may not have the chance to do so in the future."

"Then I suggest you leave them shocked with your gentle kindness."

"I can be gentle. And kind."

"Have you ever been so with the palace staff?"

"Likely not."

"Then make a change. Consider it a challenge."

A guard met them at the door and they were escorted to his cell and instructed to pack anything he wanted to take with him.

"Do you need a writing desk, Iris? It is not a fine one, like the one I have upstairs, but if you would like it for your work, I would be happy to bring it. It is most certainly sturdy."

"I would love to have it for the shop."

"Then it and its contents will come with us. I do not ever wish to see that cot again, though."

Iris glanced at it- while it had been cleaned, it was still stained with his blood, "No, never again."

Their escort took them to his chambers, "Remember, my friend, my home is not very large and your room, while a fair size, is nowhere as large as this."

"I do not wish to keep much. My desk. If this is to be a clean start, I do not want to clutter it with the trappings of my life here." He went to his wardrobe, "Would you pack some of my clothing for me?" She went through the garments one by one and packed what he wanted in a trunk. They added some of his papers on top of the clothes. He packed the contents of a small bookshelf, a hand mirror and brush set, and a few pair of boots in another and then they went to pack his desk. When those things had left the room, Iris caught him staring at his armor displayed on a form against the wall.

"What troubles you?"

"It has been a part of my life in the best of years and in the worst. I want it, but at the same time, I do not."

"Is there one piece that you would like to keep above all others?"

"My daggers."

"Then take only them."

"Thor will never allow it. They are not even in this room, confiscated to the vault long ago before you and I were allowed to cloister here."

"Ah."

He took her hand, "What is, is. I cannot change it."

"Acceptance is something new for you."

"And I am fighting against it every moment."

"You would rather make some bitterly sarcastic remark."

"You know me well, Iris."

They left his chambers and were led to the courtyard. Thor greeted them, wished them fair travels, and invited Loki to send word when he wanted a private audience and it would happen, no matter what else was on the king's mind. Thor embraced them both and sent them on their way.

They tried to attract as little attention as possible as they walked from the palace followed by a horse-drawn cart. Guards disappeared the best they could into the crowded streets as they travelled. Loki kept his head down while Iris led the horse, greeting those who were familiar to her as they passed. A few people asked questions, but she simply said she was helping a friend and could not stop to talk. Their journey was easy.

She tied up the horse outside her door and Loki hurried to move toward the house and out of the street, "You do know you will be recognized some day, do you not? And you will have to answer those who ask if you are the prince?"

"Of course I do. By then I hope to have a witty reason that I am here rather than having to tell everyone it was this or the dungeon, or possibly sedated in the infirmary for the rest of my life."

"That would likely not reassure the neighbours."

"The mention of sedation, the dungeon, or my presence at all?"

"As we have no idea, as a whole, why you would be sedated, likely that one. Though the dungeons might draw some odd reactions as well. It is not a stretch to imagine you were kept there after being discovered on the throne."

"It was to me. I thought I would be dead."

Amaryllis slung the lightest of the trunks on her shoulder, "Come now, stop chattering like a pair of starlings and get these trunks in the house."

Iris gestured to the one full of books, "I certainly cannot lift this one on my own and he has been barred from lifting."

"You can lift the other, can you not?"

"Not on my shoulders! You show off your strength!"

Amaryllis laughed, "Indeed, I do! We must establish right away that I can carry him over my shoulder if he misbehaves!" She disappeared into the house.

Iris heaved the lighter trunk off the cart, "Come inside. See your new home."

Loki had never been in the house of a commoner before. He stepped into the large open room that served as a kitchen, dining room, and gathering room and looked around in amazement. The ceilings were only a few feet above his head supported by long rough hewn beams that stretched the entire length of the room, the walls panelled in old red timber richly oiled. He sat down at the worn dining table and waited as Amaryllis and Iris hauled the trunk of books into his room. Lastly, they carried in the desks.

Iris sat hers down in the gathering room, "I will take this to the shop once you have had the chance to empty it."

"There is little in it- your drawings, our book, a few pens and pencils."

"Then we can make light work of it after the rest of your room is settled. But come, you have not yet seen it."

Amaryllis went to talk to the guards while Iris brought Loki down a little hallway between the gathering room and the greenhouse that led to the rooms behind it. The hallway turned and there were five doors along one side, one door opposite leading back to the kitchen.

"This first room is our sunroom- we often take breakfast here, or gather for stories here summer evenings so we can look out over the back gardens to play games, read, and watch the fireflies dance. It is lovely."

"The entire rear wall is glass. And it abuts the greenhouse with more glass. And even part of the roof..."

"Yes. More glass. You will enjoy watching rain roll off the roof. The shadows it casts are entrancing." She had to gently tug him from the room, "In the summer, we leave the door open to the back gardens. You have much time to explore this place."

"Unless I do something terribly wrong."

"You will not. Now come, this next room is my sister's. She would be quite unhappy were I to show it to you uninvited. You will have to wait for her. But beyond is the washroom, then your room. Mine is on the end. Shall we enter yours?"

"Please, yes." She opened the door and he stepped in. He stopped, staring at the windows, "So much light..."

"It is lovely in the early mornings, the way the sun streams in."

"Is that the tapestry from my room? I did not notice it missing."

"Thor found a remnant. The fabric is very rare."

He stared at the desk, neatly settled in its place under the window, and at the row of pictures she had framed on the wall above an empty bookshelf. A soft chair was tucked between the bed and door, a line of hooks and a boot tray along the wall between the door and windows. The wardrobe was nestled in the far corner.

"You can always rearrange it if the furniture is not where you would like it. We used the room for storage for many years, so putting it back together as a sleeping space was a bit of an experiment."

"Thank you. It is wonderful. Will you help me unpack?" It took very little time to hang his clothes, place his books on the shelf, and settle his boots under the hooks. She then left him sitting in the soft chair and retrieved the contents of his other desk and put everything in its place.

When she was done, she gestured around her, "Welcome home."

"Home."

"Yes. For the present. Life may take you far away, or it might keep you here. You cannot know until you live it."

He smiled, "Yes. Home."

A bell rang from somewhere else in the house, "That would be Ama calling us to make supper. Come, I will show you my room quickly, and we will wander the greenhouse, shop, and gardens after we eat." He closed the door behind him and she led him to the last room. It was very small, windowed from floor to ceiling as the others were, but only had enough space for her bed, a small writing desk, her trunk, and a narrow wardrobe.

"Your room is so small..."

"Yes. I chose it years ago. My tastes are more monastic."

"So I did not displace you? It feels odd to have so much larger a room than one of the ladies of the house."

"No. This has been my place since I returned here. I am happy and want no larger." The bell rang again, "Amaryllis must be eager to start teaching you to cook."

"So soon?"

She closed her door and smiled as she gently pushed him down the hallway, playfully resisting, "Oh yes. Amaryllis is determined to have you thoroughly integrated into our daily life as quickly as possible. But don't worry. You will learn quickly. Life is not nearly so hard here as I am certain the nobles make it seem."

"I have heard many tales of short lives filled with toil and dredge."

"Well I assure you that you will enjoy what toil we have and I have never dredged anything except the garden pond."

"Is that a dirty job?"

"Oh very. And if anything drowns in it, it is rather disgusting and slightly horrifying."

"The nobles would faint at the sight."

"I have no doubt. But worry not, if you faint the first time you have to fish a drowned sparrow from it's shallows, I will assuredly catch you."

"Oh, what a charitable soul you are. The model of generosity."

"I will even bring smelling salts."

"You go above and beyond your duty." He paused, "Do you really think I will faint?"

"Only if it falls in during winter and we do not find it until spring."

"That sounds revolting..." His face showed clearly that revulsion was possibly not even a strong enough word.

She held the door for him as they entered the kitchen, "Now. Time to cook supper!"

Amaryllis saw the look on his face and shook her head, "The poor man, you're making him wonder if this was a better choice than the dungeons."

"I will only strive to be horrifying on the first few days. He will get used to it and the rest of our life will seem easy."

"I won't faint when I have to retrieve a dead sparrow, I promise."

Amaryllis laughed, "Is that the worst she could come up with? Let me tell you the story about the time when I accidentally left ten pounds of potatoes in a sack outside during the heavy rains for two weeks...have you ever smelled a rotten potato?"

He shook his head, "No..."

"It's far worse to nose than a freshly drowned bird."

Iris pointed Loki to a stool and placed a large wooden bowl in his lap, "Be my table while I peel apples." As the peels curled in the bowl, she thought, "Ooo, did I ever tell you about the time I found a snake stuck in the tool shed? It had been there quite a long time..."

"Was it dead?"

"Very."

"Is this story going to be as disgusting as the pond?"

"Worse."

"You are terrible, Iris."

"And you would not have it any other way."

He chuckled, "You are most certainly right."


	15. Chapter 15

Loki settled into life with Iris and Amaryllis rather quickly. Cooking was not as difficult as he thought it would be, and he learned quickly. The greenhouse provided fresh produce in all seasons and by the time he had lived with the sisters nearly a year, he had started to experiment with his own recipes and combinations of spices, requesting some of the more rare ones from the palace kitchen.

He also learned more about plants than he ever had thought there was to know about them. From creating hybrids to bringing them back from the nearly dead, he thought that he was just starting to figure things out when the festival season started and people were ordering bouquets and centrepieces so fast that they could hardly cut flowers quickly enough. With Loki's help, they were able to take more orders- he gathered flowers, Amaryllis arranged them, and Iris spent much of her time decorating wrapping, writing notes, and illustrating cards. They each had a job to do and when the shop closed each day, they divided up the work in the greenhouse and gardens so they could still have time for rest and reading.

When Remembrance Day arrived, he found himself jumping at every loud nose, flinching when either of the sisters approached, and finding excuses to spend as little time in the shop as possible. Iris spent some time with him in quiet after supper, but he retired early and she went to her own room to write stories before she slept.

The next morning, Iris rose early, watered the plants that needed watering, and set about the task of making breakfast. Loki stumbled into the kitchen rubbing his eyes, yawning.

"Good morning, Loki."

"Hello, Iris."

"You are up early."

"The sun woke me far before I would have liked. Are you usually up this early as well?"

"Yes. I use the time to water and to match my work with the orders the drawings belong with. Did you have a pleasant night?"

"Blessedly quiet."

"Did you see if Ama was awake yet? I have a question about the large order for the funeral barge."

"No, she is not."

"Was her door still closed."

He sat down on the kitchen stool, "Yes...but...that's..." He blushed.

Iris leaned on the table, a little smile on her lips, "Do you have something to tell me?"

"I slept with your sister. Please don't send me back to the palace"

She laughed and stepped close to him, "Oh, Loki, I wouldn't send you back to the palace for that."

He sighed and his shoulders dropped, "Thank you."

"You did nothing wrong. But you must know that I will tease you both mercilessly for a few days because it is my solemn duty as her sister."

"You are not angry?"

"Of course not. I have suspected such for the past month."

"This was the first time. We have been growing quite close, and...well...it just happened."

"I'm happy for you both."

"Iris, I think I love her."

She hugged him, "That's wonderful."

"I expected a far different reaction than this. Possibly with yelling."

"While I have chosen a more monastic path, that does not mean I begrudge others finding their happiness with one another. I think it is sweet."

"Do you not wish for the same?"

"No. I have only felt such attractions a few times in my life."

Loki stood and took both her hands, "May I ask your blessing?"

"You have it. Hope you have many long years ahead of you."

"Do you think I should tell Thor?"

"Tell him what?" Amaryllis asked as she entered the room.

"About us."

Amaryllis turned red, "You told Iris?"

"It wasn't hard to guess, Ama. You two have been sneaking away as though you were young lovers for the past few months."

"And you are not upset? He is your friend."

"Yes. And because of such I hope you both find many years of happiness in your future."

Amaryllis smiled, "You are the best sister, my dear."

"And you the best sister as well." She turned to Loki, "And you the best friend and, possibly, the best brother."

"I wonder how Thor would feel about having sisters."

Amaryllis shrugged, "I suppose if things go well, we will find out."

Iris set the breakfast table, "They will. And he will be delighted. Now sit, everyone. I will not have breakfast get cold. We can celebrate our family over eggs."

Loki noticed the single white rose in the centre of the table. In a few days, she would add a butter yellow rose to the vase- he had not asked her, but he knew she would. It was simply the way Iris worked.

He raised his glass, "To you two- a family. My family. Thank you."

Amaryllis took his hand and Iris was smiling as she raised her glass to his, "You are ever welcome."


End file.
